Wednesday, November 17, 2004

Um. Ew. Weird.

The last time I got a promotion, I was thrilled. I got an almost 10% raise, my own office with a door AND a window, tons of new exciting duties, a shiny new G3 (hey, it was 2000), and an awesome new title: managing editor.

I was really, really excited. And I loved my boss, who was tough, smart, fair and very funny. But I didn't love her this much:

Nor did I have a cutsie name for my boss, like Rice does for Bush. She calls him "Doobie." Also "my husband."

You've come a long way, baby!

Seriously, Condi, slap that man with a sexual harrassment suit! Oh wait, I forgot -- you're a total tool. My bad.


  1. Oh, so much to say. So little need to say it.

  2. I had to do a double-take on that photo, as it first appeared to be a Photoshopped image of W kissing Gandhi.

    Which I realize is a huge insult to Gandhi - my apologies to his soul.

    Doobie? Nicknames should come in real handy for foreign relations - you know, sort of loosen up the crowds, make everyone feel like they know each other really well.

    "Okay, after having discussed this now for the past three hours, I think we've made some real progress, and it's time to finalize the new Middle East peace proposal. Ponch, you write the executive summary with Cheech. Booger, you and Stinky-Turban need to shake hands for the photographers. And Doobie, just sit over there and finish your juice box and baby carrots."

  3. Doobie? Tell me you're making that up.


  4. Anonymous9:38 PM

    Come to think of it, if there were *more* doobies in the White House, maybe things would start looking up.

  5. Whoops. Now I'm anonymous. Sheesh.

  6. KRIS! "Stinky-turban!" Heh.

    And Frog, apparently she called him that while thanking him for the nomination. On CNN. NO SHAME.